


Shattered

by av_verse



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Brainwashed Loki (Marvel), Brothers Grimm, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Godfather Death - Freeform, Hurt, I'm Bad At Tagging, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Poor Vision (Marvel), Precious Peter Parker, Protective Avengers, Protective Tony Stark, Tags Are Hard, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Has Issues, Tony Stark Has Nightmares, Tony Stark Has Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Tony Stark Needs Sleep, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Violence, candle stuff idk, emotionally hurt, yer flames dyin out
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-08
Updated: 2018-10-03
Packaged: 2019-05-03 20:20:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14576889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/av_verse/pseuds/av_verse
Summary: Christina Glen was finally starting to feel right at home with the Avengers, when all of a sudden, Vision, who had been brainwashed by Loki's scepter, tried to kidnap her. Needless to say, the Avengers came running. But who's to say it wouldn't all go to hell?orHer life was going great, until it wasn't.





	1. Broken Glass

"I'm proud of you." No. No no no no no. Christina stared down in shock at the limp body of her mother, sucking in a sharp breath as her mom exhaled her last. Chris couldn't hear. She couldn't see. She couldn't breathe. She cried her name, wailed her name over and over, but her mother didn't make a sound. Why would she? She was dead, she was dead. 

 _I'm proud of you._ Those words grabbed Chris by the heart, robbed her of her house, and threw her onto the street. They bled like ink through her, offering her warmth through the night while torturing her mind. They igniting a fire inside of her, a flame that wouldn't stop growing. Chris cried smoke and breathed in ashes. That was her routine.

It had been a year. After the Incident, Chris ran away before people could put her into the system. As far as she was concerned, she only had one set of parents, and both their flames had died out. Doused by water, too soon. So she lived off the pity of others and the words. Some days, the words slithered out of her grasp, circling just above her reach, laughing cruelly. Those days Chris hated. Those days she was forced to use the one thing she swore she wouldn't.

Her powers. According to the test runs she had done, Chris had some type of freaky magnetism powers. She could climb any metal structure and stop any form of electricity. Not to mention the weird metal levitation thing. But the hunger inside of her had darkened to a bruise, and she knew she couldn't go on like this. Sure, Chris could heal a bit faster than normal people, but normal people got cuts and scrapes, not near starvation.

So there she crouched, behind a stack of lumber, waiting. An opportunity had struck. A metal lunchbox, sitting forgotten against a beam. Chris didn't actually know if there was anything in it, but she could take that risk. Taking deep breaths, she stretched out her hand. Soon enough, the air around it started wavering, like a miniature heat wave. Stretching out her arm, even more, the shifting air moved slowly towards the metal box and wrapped around it. Releasing the breath Chris didn't know she had been holding, she guided it back to herself and dropped in in her lap. Gently opening the lid, Chris nearly squealed. A (Subway?) sandwich, an apple, and a small canteen of liquid. Chris praised whoever had forgotten their lunch. She unwrapped the sandwich, looking curiously as a slip of paper fell out. Chris folded it open, furrowing her brow when she read the words once, then twice, then three times. It didn't make sense.

 _Get out of that place now._ Was this for the construction worker? Suddenly paranoid, Chris looked up to thoroughly scan her surroundings.

"Hello." Shit. It's him. What does she do? What does she say?

"Hey, douchebag. Come to give me some spare change?" Chris felt a flicker of satisfaction for a moment when a look of anger crossed his face, then she started to feel panicked. 

"How many more of you are here?" Chris whispered, moving her legs a little closer to her and widening her eyes, to achieve the look of a helpless girl. Maybe they'll go easy on her. Hopefully. He casually drew a gun out of his pocket and looked at Chris with pity.

"Enough."

"I still don't understand."

"They usually don't." Wait.  _They?_ There were more people like Chris? She allowed a look of fear to emerge on her face for a second, enough so he saw and gained confidence. 

"I haven't seen you in a while. Busy kidnapping more kids?" Chris couldn't help being snarky, she was so done with how he treated people. Like they were all one age and it didn't matter what he did or even if it was okay.

"Alright, I'm getting tired of you. Tie her up." Yeah, not going to happen.

"Oh, and another thing." Chris looked up again. Grinning, he spoke.

"I win."

Ignoring him, she looked around for anything that could help. Eyes widening at what she saw, Chris struggled to contain a smile.  _Idiots._ Turning back to him, Chris gave him a sickeningly sweet smile and opened her mouth. "No." She started laughing. He frowned. Chris leaped up, sprinting as fast as she could toward the middle of the site. She heard outraged yelling and the pounding of feet, but she didn't turn back. Stopping suddenly, Chris turned.

"You lose." A dozen iron beams came crashing down, crushing bodies and structures alike, but missing Chris entirely. Falling to one knee, she summoned the last of her strength and forced the walls of the structure open, the floor open too. It all came crashing down, creating hell and chaos, and landing on everything living thing.

Including Chris.

 

 

"Wow. The kid really did a number on this place."

"Yeah. Jesus."

"Mr. Stark, do you think she survived?"

"Don't worry Peter, we'll find her."

Chris's head was going to burst. It was going to explode, she was sure of it. Her vision was black and her lungs were on fire, sending a sharp pain down her body when she breathed.  _You were breathing. You survived._ Twisting, Chris looked around, eyes burning. Rubble. Lots of it. She was under the rubble. Before she could remember what just went on, something started happening. Chris's skin tingled. Wait. Metal. Fire. Metal heated up fast, crap. She was starting to feel the effects, and if she didn't get out of there, she was going to die.

Taking deep, shuddering gasps, Chris tried to yell for help. Nothing came out, not even a cough. She tasted blood in her mouth, and the edges of her vision went fuzzy.

No.This was not a good place to panic. Shoving aside the thoughts that were pulling at her, Chris assessed the situation. If she... if she could somehow draw out power from the metal above her... Closing her eyes, Chris gritted her teeth and heaved herself up to crouch in the tiny pocket of free space she had. Sobs started to wrack her body as Chris felt blood trickle down her head. She had never felt this helpless. Placing her palms up on the makeshift roof above her, Chris pushed. Nothing happened, nothing even shifted. She pushed harder, trying to ignore the darkness clouding her eyesight and her hands screaming in agony. 

Something moved. As a new surge of hope spread through Chris, she found her strength. Pushing harder, the metal board lifted up an inch off the ground.

"Look."

Chris strained, letting out a cry of pain when a beam slipped and cut a large gash in her arm.

"Holy fuck."

She wasn't going to die. She  _refused_ to die. 

"Language, Tony."

Fuck him. Fuck all those men. 

"Really?  _That's_ what you're concerned about?"

With one last push, Chris threw the beam up in the air, holding it up with her powers just long enough so she could see the shocked expressions of the people in front of her. Then she hurled it away from her, banging it into the ground with a mighty crash. Looking ahead, Chris saw four people. A tall black guy, a muscular blonde, a short man with a killer goatee, and... a teenager with curly brown hair. Through her shock, Chris concluded that she was standing in front of James Rhodes, Steve Rogers, Tony Stark, and who she assumed was his son. In other words, some of the Avengers. Chris saw the teen say something to Mr. Stark, but she could only pick up a few words.

"...warehouse... _Toomes_...nothing without it..." The look on Mr. Starks face turned from curious to furious and he turned to yell at the teenager, who was trying to shrink away. Before he could, though, Chris decided it was time to collapse. Eyes finally getting to close and dust swirling around her exhausted body, she heard Steve Rogers ask something.

"Who  _is_ she?"

 

 

A year ago, Chris would have never thought she would be sitting next to Tony Stark, a genius, billionaire philanthropist, and Natasha Romanoff, trained spy and even better assassin, in the S.H.I.E.L.D Helicarrier. The meeting had been fairly simple, informing Chris and Peter Parker about the rules and safety issues as they were both fairly new.

“Just remember, we don't want another ceiling problem,” Tony reminded, standing up. He was referring to when Chris had pranked and startled Peter, resulting in his web-slinger attaching her to the ceiling for several hours. It wasn’t her proudest moment.

Chris trudged up to her room, stopping by Loki’s cell to give him a glare and a note from Thor, who was in Asgard dealing with Loki’s imprisonment. He had been causing trouble in New York, but Thor, matched with the other Avengers and some S.H.I.E.L.D agents, Loki didn’t stand a chance.

Three months. It had only been three months, yet the Avengers already felt like Chris's family. After the incident at the construction site, they had taken her back to the compound. Waking up good as new, she immediately hit it off with everyone, especially Peter. The rest was history.

Standing in her hallway, Chris gazed out of the big window that showed the meeting room, with its large glass “coffee table” for talking and a few control panels and screens for surveillance. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw something and whipped around fists up and heart pounding. It was Vision. Chris relaxed her tensed muscles and grinned.

“Sorry, you scared me-” Quick as a flash, his hand was around Chris's throat. She couldn’t breathe. The edges of her vision went black. All she could see were Vision’s eyes. They were pure black, all the color drained out. She heard a crash, then felt a stinging as she was hurled out the window. Bits of window shrapnel stung her face and body. Chris landed on the coffee table, resulting in even more shattered glass.

“Vision-” Chris rolled backward off the table, scrambling to her feet. Other people aboard the ship had surely heard the ruckus, it wouldn’t be long before the Avengers came to help her. Dodging a blast, she frantically looked around for some type of object to protect herself with. Unarmed, no suit, too stunned to summon her powers, Chris was completely vulnerable.

“Chris!” She turned to see Tony fly in, decked out in full Iron Man gear. Behind him, their faces alarmed, followed Steve, Natasha, Clint, Peter, Wanda, and Bruce, who was twitching.

“What’s happening?” Chris cried out, looking up at Vision, who was still hovering in the hallway. He stared down at her with an intense expression, his eyes as black as ink. Chris never really became friends with him, as she found him a little _too_ perfect. Still confused, she searched his eyes. It dawned on her as she turned to Clint. He appeared to have the same idea, as his eyes widened.

“Loki!” He snarled. Chris could see him silently fuming. He turned to head up the stairs, but an arm blocked him.

“Clint, you’ve been under the scepter’s spell before. Try to talk to Vision. I’ll handle Loki.” Steve raced up the steps, the star on his shield glinting in the light. Clint turned back around and lifted his chin up to look at Vision. Throwing a helpless glance at Wanda, he spoke.

“Vision. I know what you’ve been through.”

Vision tilted his head at Clint and smiled.

“My very strength incites challenge. Challenge incites conflict, and conflict breeds catastrophe,” he said. Clint looked at Tony, who shrugged.

“Vision, why are you going after Chris?” This time Wanda spoke, looking up to Vision with imploring eyes. Vision laughed, a cruel, harsh laugh that caused shivers to rush up Chris's spine.

“Easy. She has a power maybe even as strong than yours, Wanda, but she hasn't learned to harness it yet. We can do that for her.” Chris's fear grew.

“So you want to use her like she’s some kind of… lab rat?!” Tony said angrily. “Chris is not a-”

“Who’s we?” Chris asked, dreading the answer. Vision drifted down toward her. She took a step back, as Tony raised his hand blasters and Natasha took out her gun.

“You’ll find out soon enough.” He stretched out his arm to grab hers.

Several things happened at once. Bruce started turning green and growing in size, Tony charged toward us, and Peter shot a web at Vision. None of these things were helpful. Well, except Peter’s web. It hit Vision square in the face, causing him to stagger back and release her arm. Lurching away from him, Chris ran toward the stairs only to run headfirst into the shattered glass table Vision had lifted up using his powers. Her head spinning with pain and blood dripping down her face, Chris was lifted into the air. Tony, she thought gratefully. She turned her head to look at him.

Vision stared back. He reached out and gripped her arm tightly, speeding toward the window. Chris closed her eyes. _This is it._  She thought. _They’re going to experiment on me like some kind of animal._

In the end, it was the Hulk who saved Chris. He anger magnified by his size and power completely wiped out Vision. She had one moment of elation. However, she was still in the air. Chris fell toward the window, smashing through the glass and frantically grabbing at the edge of the floor. Chris hated to leave them, she really did. But they had an important job do to. Hanging on by the tips of her fingertips, Chris managed to choke out two last words before she fell.

“Keep going.”

And then there was nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I plan to upload each week, most likely Fridays.
> 
> So, let me explain.  
> This takes place after Infinity War, where everything is all patched up. While I don't actually know, I'll try to explain what happens and how everything gets fixed, just from my imagination and theories.


	2. there's no remedy for a broken heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nightmares, PTSD, angst, bad writing, and the Brothers Grimm. Enjoy.

Godfather Death

The Brothers Grimm

 

_ A poor man had twelve children and had to work day and night in order just to feed them. Thus when the thirteenth came into the world, not knowing what to do in his need, he ran out into the highway, intending to ask the first person whom he met to be the godfather. _ __   
  


_ The first person who came his way was our dear God, who already knew what was in his heart, and God said to him, "Poor man, I pity you. I will hold your child at his baptism, and care for him, and make him happy on earth." _ _   
_ _   
_ _ The man said, "Who are you?" _ _   
_ _   
_ _ "I am God." _ _   
_ _   
_ _ "Then I do not wish to have you for a godfather," said the man. "You give to the rich, and let the poor starve." _ _   
_ _   
_ _ Thus spoke the man, for he did not know how wisely God divides out wealth and poverty. Then he turned away from the Lord, and went on his way. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ Then the devil came to him and said, "What are you looking for? If you will take me as your child's godfather, I will give him an abundance of gold and all the joys of the world as well." _ _   
_ _   
_ _ The man asked, "Who are you?" _ _   
_ _   
_ _ "I am the devil." _ _   
_ _   
_ _ "Then I do not wish to have you for a godfather," said the man. “You deceive mankind and lead them astray." _ _   
_ _   
_ _ He went on his way, and then Death, on his withered legs, came walking toward him, and said, "Take me as your child's godfather." _ _   
_ _   
_ _ The man asked, "Who are you?" _ _   
_ _   
_ _ "I am Death, who makes everyone equal." _ _   
_ _   
_ _ Then the man said, "You are the right one. You take away the rich as well as the poor, without distinction. You shall be my child's godfather. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ Death answered, "I will make your child rich and famous, for he who has me for a friend cannot fail." _ _   
_ _   
_ _ The man said, "Next Sunday is the baptism. Be there on time." _ _   
_ _   
_ _ Death appeared as he had promised, and served as godfather in an orderly manner. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ After the boy came of age his godfather appeared to him one day and asked him to go with him. He took him out into the woods and showed him an herb that grew there, saying, "Now you shall receive your godfather's present. I will turn you into a famous physician. Whenever you are called to a sick person I will appear to you. If I stand at the sick person's head, you may say with confidence that you can make him well again; then give him some of this herb, and he will recover. But if I stand at the sick person's feet, he is mine, and you must say that he is beyond help, and that no physician in the world could save him. But beware of using this herb against my will, or something very bad will happen to you." _ _   
_ _   
_ _ It was not long before the young man had become the most famous physician in the whole world. People said of him, "He only needs to look at the sick in order to immediately know their condition, whether they will regain their health, or are doomed to die." And people came to him from far and wide, taking him to their sick, and giving him so much money that he soon became a wealthy man. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ Now it came to pass that the king became ill. The physician was summoned and was told to say if a recovery were possible. However, when he approached the bed, Death was standing at the sick man's feet, and so no herb on earth would be able to help him. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ "If I could only deceive death for once," thought the physician. "He will be angry, of course, but because I am his godson he will shut one eye. I will risk it." He therefore took hold of the sick man and laid him the other way around, so that Death was now standing at his head. Then he gave the king some of the herb, and he recovered and became healthy again. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ However, Death came to the physician, made a dark and angry face, threatened him with his finger, and said, "You have betrayed me. I will overlook it this time because you are my godson, but if you dare to do it again, it will cost you your neck, for I will take you yourself away with me." _ _   
_ _   
_ _ Soon afterward the king's daughter became seriously ill. She was his only child, and he cried day and night until his eyes were going blind. Then he proclaimed that whosoever rescued her from death should become her husband and inherit the crown. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ When the physician came to the sick girl's bed he saw Death at her feet. He should have remembered his godfather's warning, but he was so infatuated by the princess's great beauty and the prospect of becoming her husband that he threw all thought to the winds. He did not see that Death was looking at him angrily, lifting his hand into the air, and threatening him with his withered fist. He lifted up the sick girl and placed her head where her feet had been. Then he gave her some of the herb, and her cheeks immediately turned red, and life stirred in her once again. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ Death, seeing that he had been cheated out of his property for a second time, approached the physician with long strides and said, "You are finished. Now it is your turn." _ _   
_ _   
_ _ Then Death seized him so firmly with his ice-cold hand that he could not resist, and led him into an underground cavern. There the physician saw how thousands and thousands of candles were burning in endless rows, some large, others medium-sized, others small. Every instant some died out, and others were relit, so that the little flames seemed to be jumping about in constant change. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ "See," said Death, "these are the life-lights of mankind. The large ones belong to children, the medium-sized ones to married people in their best years, and the little ones to old people. However, even children and young people often have only a tiny candle." _ _   
_ _   
_ _ "Show me my life-light," said the physician, thinking that it still would be very large. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ Death pointed to a little stump that was just threatening to go out, and said, "See, there it is." _ _   
_ _   
_ _ "Oh, dear godfather," said the horrified physician, "light a new one for me. Do it as a favor to me, so that I can enjoy my life, and become king and the husband of the beautiful princess." _ _   
_ _   
_ _ "I cannot," answered Death. "One must go out before a new one is lighted." _ _   
_ _   
_ _ "Then set the old one onto a new one that will go on burning after the old one is finished," begged the physician. _ _   
_ _   
_ __ Death pretended that he was going to fulfill this wish and took hold of a large new candle, but, desiring revenge, he purposely made a mistake in relighting it, and the little piece fell down and went out. The physician immediately fell to the ground, and he too was now in the hands of Death.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Tony?” A quiet voice pulled him out of his disturbed mind. Closing the cover of the book, the billionaire ran his calloused hand over his tired face.

 

“What are you reading?” With no need to face the speaker, Tony gestured to the worn pages in front of him.

 

“Brothers Grimm. Never liked it. Too many people die at the end.” He sucked in a deep breath, exhaling slowly so that the small glass cup in his hands fogged up. 

 

“Like me?” It wasn’t a question, not really. Tony stirred.

 

“What?”

 

“Who would you choose? God, the devil, or Death?”

 

“Wait- what did you say? Like me?” Tony contemplated turning, but decided against it. Too much work. 

 

“Who would you choose?” The voice was dreamy, as if fantasizing what their choice might be. “The media’s Tony Stark would choose God. The private Tony Stark would choose death, don't you think?” Now the voice was laced with disdain.

 

“I’d doubt you care.” Tony swallowed thickly. “Who  _ are  _ you?”

 

“You know who I am, Mr. Stark.” 

 

Tony’s chest tightened, like an invisible rope was wound taut around his heart. Gripping his brandy glass in one hand and the Grimm book in the other, he turned.

 

“You killed me,” Chris choked. “Why did you let me fall?” Tears fell from her eyes and rolled down her flushed cheeks.  “You could’ve caught me.” 

 

The brandy glass fell to the floor with a crash, and Chris’s eyes flicked to it like it was her own shattering body.

 

“I’m sorry.” 

 

“Sorry doesn’t cut it.” 

 

_ I know,  _ Tony thought.  _ God, I know. _

 

The corners of Chris’s mouth turned slightly upwards, but her watery gaze was steely. Tony would spend many sleepless nights thinking about what she said next. 

 

“This is on  _ you,  _ Mr. Stark.”

  
  
  


_ Two months ago. Chris and Peter had just come from a ferry that had been ripped in half, and put together again with the help of Iron Man. Sitting at the docks, they both looked out at the water until they heard Tony dispatch out of the suit. _

 

_ “Previously, on Chris and Peter screws the pooch, I tell you to stay away from this, and you don’t.” _

 

_ Peter frowned and crossed his arms. “You know if you even cared, you’d actually be here.”  _

 

_ Tony then stepped out of the suit, his disappointment practically radiating off of him. _

 

_ “Do you guys know that I was the only one who believed in you? Everyone else thought I was  _ crazy _ to recruit two 14-year old kids,” He said. _

 

_ “We’re fifteen,” Chris had uttered, before she could stop herself. _

 

_ “No- This is where you  _ zip it, _ alright?! The adult is talking.”  _

 

_ Peter grabbed Chris’s hand. _

 

_ “What if somebody had died today? Different story, right?” Tony spat. “Because that would be on  _ you two. _ ” Peter gritted his teeth and stared silently, squeezing Chris’s hand to the point where it hurt. _

 

_ “And if you both died,” Tony spread his arms, almost helplessly. “I feel like that’s on me.”  _

  
  
  


“This is on  _ you,  _ Mr. Stark.” Gone were the tears, gone were the flushed face. In its place was a cold, calculating gaze, and a face that showed no emotion. 

 

_ Get out of my head. _

 

“ _ You  _ let me die.” 

 

Tony clutched the Grimm book desperately to his chest as the rope coiled tighter. 

 

_ Get out of my head. _

 

He heaved in breath after breath, fighting to remain calm. Throughout this, Y/N simply looked at him. Finally, she smiled.

 

“Your candle is going out, Mr. Stark.” 

  
  
  


It was late. Far too late for Peter to be up, but he couldn’t go to sleep in the fear of having another nightmare. Almost all of the other Avengers were up too, so he could stay up, right? Adjusting his position on the beanbag near the TV, he continued his conversation with Natasha about spiders. She was listening, occasionally throwing Clint an amused glance. 

 

“So, I have a theory that this one spider can-” Before he could finish, however, FRIDAY’S voice filled the room.

 

“Mr. Stark seems to be in distress.” She said, with a tone that seemed as concerned as a robotic voice can get.

 

Peter's eyes widened in recognition and he wiggled out of the beanbag onto his feet. 

 

“You gonna go get him, Pete?” Steve asked, with poorly disguised worry. 

 

“Yeah.” And with that, he rushed out of the room. Rhodey smiled faintly.

 

“He’s a good kid.”

  
  
  


When Peter got to Mr. Stark’s room, the door was locked.

 

“FRIDAY?”

 

“Yes, Peter?”

 

“Can you unlock the door?”

 

“No can do, Peter. Boss specifically told me not to.” Peter huffed. Typical. Tony always wanted to shut himself out, keep his personal life away from the people he loves.

 

“I can, however, indicate the points in the door that are weakest. Bottom right corner, above the door handle, and both hinges. Will that be all?”

 

Peter grinned.

 

“Thanks, FRI.” Assessing the situation, he considered knocking the door down, But that wasn’t necessary, and he was sure Tony wouldn’t appreciate it.

 

Fishing a bobby pin from who-knows-where, he jammed it into the doorknob and started moving it around. After a few minutes of crudely wiggling the bobby pin, the door made a soft  _ pop!  _ and clicked open. Breathing in a sigh of relief, the young vigilante pushed the door open and paused.

 

“FRIDAY, is he still in…  _ distress?”  _

 

“Yes, Peter.” Slowly, Peter crept into the room. He swallowed. Even without the lights, Peter could tell Mr. Stark was having a nightmare. He could hear the mechanic tossing and turning, letting out sounds of anguish.

 

“M-Mr. Stark?” He walked quietly over to the edge of Tony’s bed. 

 

“It’s me, Peter.” He whispered, raising his hands in preparation. Tony let out a cry and shifted jerkily. Peter sighed.

 

“Sorry, Mr. Stark.” He knew that waking up a person from a nightmare by shaking them was not a good idea, but Mr. Stark looked like he needed help. So Peter gently shook Mr. Stark, taking a cautious step back when Tony lurched up with a cry. He looked at Peter with wild anguished eyes, and Peter felt his heart break. 

 

“It’s okay Mr. Stark,” he soothed, letting the man calm down. “It was just a dream, it wasn’t real.” He sat next to the broken billionaire and wrapped an arm around his shoulder. Tony shuddered and took a rasping breath.

 

“It’s on me, kid.” Peter frowned. “What?”

 

“S-She said it was on me and she was right, I let her fall Pete a-and it’s my fault-” Tony was cut off in a fit of coughing and hung his head. 

 

“I let her fall.” He whispered, so quietly a normal human wouldn't have been able to detect it.

 

“I let her fall.” There was a hesitant pause as Peter searched his brain for something to say.

 

“Mr. Stark, look at me.” Tony raised his head level with Peter’s. “It wasn’t your fault,” he said softly. “There was nothing you could’ve done.” Peter then pulled Tony into a hug, not caring that his shirt was wet with his mentor’s tears.

 

“...rts, Pete.” 

 

“What?” Peter asked, leaning even closer. Even with Peter’s advanced hearing, he almost didn't hear what Tony said next.

 

“It still hurts.”

 

Peter’s heart broke.

 

“I know, Tony.”

 

“I know.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic ever on Ao3, so I would be so happy if you left kudos or warm fuzzy comments! Check out my other stuff, and enjoy!!! <3


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